Page 68 of Dibs
“Yeah, it seems I have a lot to think about.” But even saying those words to him, I knew I wanted nothing more than to share a home with Gage.
* * *
The plane toucheddown in Houston the next afternoon. We’d picked up Jase from Jamie’s on the way to the airport and once we had our bags from baggage claim, we piled into the rental SUV.
“Excited to see Dylan?” I asked Jase. I knew Gage was, but my son had also gone a week without seeing his best friend. If Gage and I moved in together, the boys would get their fill of each other, and depending on where we lived, they might have to share a room.
“Yeah, duh,” he mocked.
Gage put Lisa’s address into the GPS and I headed in that direction. Forty minutes later, we pulled into the gated community and parked in front of the house.
“Wow, their place is huge,” Jase stated.
“Yeah,” Gage muttered, looking at the two-story brick home.
I reached over and squeezed his knee. “Don’t do that. You know the cost of living is different here.”
“I know, but I’m not looking forward to having Lisa gloat in my face again.”
“She only lives here because of who she’s going to marry. Not because of anything she’s accomplished. You own a home in the third most expensive state in the US and are more than capable of providing for your family. She didn’t win.”
“And if”—he eyed the back seat and then lowered his voice—“we do what we discussed yesterday, wouldn’t I be in the same position?”
“No, and I’ll tell you why at another time.”
“Okay.” Gage opened the passenger side door. “Guess I’ll go get them. A part of me expected them to rush out to greet me.”
I watched him walk up the path to the front door. He rang the bell and waited. He rang it again. Nothing. In an instant, something wasn’t sitting right with me. He rang the bell again and added a few knocks on the door. Nothing.
“Um, dad?” Jase spoke.
“Yeah?”
“Dylan just texted me that his mom and Santiago won’t let them leave.”
I turned in my seat quickly. “What do you mean ‘won’t let them leave’?”
He turned his cell phone toward me to show me the screen full of messages. “I don’t know. That’s what he texted.”
I opened the driver’s side door just as the front door to the house opened. “Stay here,” I ordered my son.
Santiago came out of the house alone, and Gage took a few steps back. “You should have called first,” Santiago stated.
“I texted Lisa what time our flight was getting in,” Gage affirmed.
Santiago shut the door behind him. “And if you would have called, we would have told you that you aren’t welcome here and your sons are staying with us.”
“Excuse me?” Gage clipped, and I picked up my pace, getting in behind him.
Santiago let out a sinister laugh. “And you, Chase Fucking Matthewson. I should have fucking known you were a faggot too when you defended Parker and Rockland.”
I took a calming breath, trying to keep my temper in check because my kid was watching. “Look, man. This has nothing to do with that. Gage and Lisa have a custody and visitation agreement. You need to get Gage’s kids, and we’ll be on our way,” I specified.
“Yeah, I’m not going to do that becausewedon’t want those boys turning into queers like you two homos.”
“You son of a bitch!” Gage roared.
Before he could take a step, I grabbed his arm and held him back. “Don’t handle this with your fists.”
